


Legs

by Mahawna



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Little Mermaid Elements, Mental Instability, Obsession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 18:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11652342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mahawna/pseuds/Mahawna
Summary: She had seen him so many times, only ever wanting to know him. When does fascination become an obsession? How far is too far to sate one's curiosity?





	Legs

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Once_Upon_a_Parchment](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Once_Upon_a_Parchment) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> The Little Mermaid - Hans Christian Anderson  
> A young mermaid falls in love with human royalty and so, makes a deal with a sea witch for a potion to give her human legs. The mermaid must make her prince fall in love with her to keep her life and new eternal soul. However, each step causes her the pain of stepping on a bed of knives, and she has no voice in her human form. If she fails, the morning after her prince marries another, she will die from a broken heart and dissolve into sea foam.
> 
> All canon character, plots, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this work.  
> Thank you to my mentor for their time and work on this story.

Sweet Neptune that man was gorgeous. The sunlight reflected off his golden hair, his perfect, tanned skin. She wondered if it tasted salty from the ocean spray. What she wouldn't give for a taste. She imagined his eyes were blue; she never actually got close enough to be able to tell. Blue like the sky above the waves. Yes, definitely blue.

 

She heaved a sigh, wishing desperately that she could get closer. Close enough to see his eyes, hear his voice, touch his skin. But they were from different worlds, and the likelihood of their paths ever crossing was less than zero. It didn't help matters that they were actually different species. She rolled her eyes, her father’s words sounding in her brain. _This is your home, these are your people. What could that world possibly have to offer? There is nothing for you up there. Accept your place here, and start living your life._

 

But she couldn't. She couldn't forget the warmth of the sun, the sound of the waves crashing on the sand, the stars shining at night, the sounds that traveled down to the beach from the small village. It was all consuming. Her thoughts plagued her with _what ifs_ and _maybe some days._ Her imagination ran wild with trying to imagine what it must be like up there, with him. What he must do with his days when he wasn't there on the beach.

 

Everyone who lived beneath the waves had seen the same sights, heard the same sounds, enjoyed the same experience, and yet none seemed to be drawn back in like she was. None seemed to understand the call of the land. It spoke to her heart, beckoning her to stand upon solid ground. To squish the sand between her ten, very human, toes. No one else seemed to hear the call. They were all completely satisfied to sink back beneath the waves. Sometimes the call became too great, to the point it created an actual pain in her chest. A pain that nothing but a trip to the surface could satisfy. She knew it wasn’t normal. She also knew she wouldn’t stop anytime soon. _Couldn’t_ stop. It made her feel special. Unique. It was her own little secret. Something she didn’t have to share with anyone else. Didn’t _want_ to share with anyone else. This was _hers_.

 

One day, she wouldn’t have to hide behind the rocks like a coward. No, she wasn’t built for cowering. One day, she would stand on that beach, tall and proud. She knew it with every fibre of her being, she was made for _more_ . No, she was not made to run. She was made to _conquer_ . Others were meant to run from her, to shudder at the very mention of her name, to fall to their knees as she passed by. She knew all of this with a certainty, but she had absolutely no doubt that she also needed _him._

 

There were no stars shining that night, nor the moon. Not that she would have noticed either way. Not with the sight that was before her. Her gaze was riveted. Gliding smoothly through the waves was the hull of a ship. From where she hid near the bow, she could hear music and laughter. Sweet Triton, what she wouldn’t give to be up there in that moment. She had seen him board the ship so she knew he was there. Only a scant few feet above her head somewhere. Enjoying what sounded like a very pleasant party.

 

She could hear the heavy stomp of booted feet against wood, the merry tinkling of laughter, the clinking of glass, and the lilting tune floating away on the breeze. She was slightly disgusted with herself. Here she was, _hiding_ , once again. Unfortunately, showing herself at this point would be suicidal. She had seen it happen before. Members of her tribe getting overly confident, only to have a spear forced through their bodies to be unceremoniously dragged from the water. No, she would need to look like one of them before she made her move. She didn’t want to end up _dead_ after all. That would completely defeat her purposes.

 

Revealing herself would have to wait for another day it seemed. For now she would have to content herself with listening and observing. From a safe distance.

 

As the night wore on, the breeze became a wind. The wind continued to build into a gale. Apparently, those on board had over indulged in whatever the substance was that seemed to make all humans take complete leave of their senses. When she had legs, she would never indulge in such a waste of time. She couldn’t possibly fathom what could be so enjoyable about abandoning all form of reason.

 

With the wind building the way it was and the waves becoming more violent, the humans would normally have already made their way back to land. Judging from the angry and panicked voices she could barely hear above the gale, something was wrong. They weren’t staying out on the water by choice it would seem.

 

Out of nowhere, the rain began its unrelenting assault. The droplets meeting the waves only intensified the roar of the storm. She wondered what he was doing up there. She couldn’t imagine him panicking, but she also couldn’t imagine him raising his voice in anger. No, he was probably perfectly calm, trying to be reassuring while keeping everyone safe. Yes, that definitely seemed like the thing he would do in this situation.

 

The night was alight with flashes of lightning reaching down towards the ocean. She couldn’t help but watch the chaos unfold. Never before had she seen anything so wild and unbridled, answering to nobody and stopping for nothing. It was marvelous and free. If she had been human it would have taken her breath away.

 

She watched with growing fascination as a fork of lightning reached down and kissed the top of the ship on which he was still a passenger. Fire leapt forth, reaching back towards the sky, trying to return to the heavens from whence it was created. She thought it was absolutely beautiful. The sudden rise in terrified screams only added to the moment.

 

She was startled out of her revery by the myriad of splashes nearby. Tearing her gaze away from the burning vessel, she realized there were humans in the water. They were _jumping_ . There was clearly no hope of putting out the flames that were now consuming their ship. She briefly wondered how a human looked as their lungs filled with water and was just about to get a closer look when she remembered _he_ was on that ship. The ship that was now burning,  slowly sinking beneath the storm tossed waves.

 

She had seen how well humans fared in the water before. Only a select few seemed to be able to keep themselves from sinking beneath the waves, limbs thrashing about in an ungainly manner, no grace or confidence to the movements, trying desperately to stay above the water. Above the water meant air; human lungs needed air in order to live.

 

Watching the mass of bodies writhing, trying to stay afloat, she didn't have much confidence that there would be many survivors from this outing. It didn't look like many of them would have done very well if the waters had been calm, let alone amidst the white caps. There was very little hope for them among the storm tossed waves. Many seemed to be weighed down by the billowing coverings they wore. Not terribly practical. It made her wonder briefly at their level of intelligence. Clearly, they hadn’t been planning on there being any issues with staying on the boat tonight.

 

She rolled her eyes. Well, it was their own fault really. Her people had all kinds of plans if the worst should happen in any situation. She didn’t have much sympathy for anyone who hadn’t thought far enough ahead to consider the possibility of something going wrong. She had her own problems anyway. Like finding her human.

 

She had seen him in the water before, so she knew he at least wasn’t going to immediately sink. However, it seemed legs could only do so much in the water and she didn’t have a lot of confidence he would have the strength to survive the storm.

 

There was not much point in keeping herself hidden from those humans who were already sinking into the cold depths. They didn’t pose any threat to her at this point. They would all be dead before they could harm her or tell anyone else what they had seen. She focused her search to those near the surface, hoping desperately that he was amongst the lucky few able to keep their heads up. The longer she looked, the more that hope died. He wasn’t there. Which meant he had already been swallowed up by the angry sea.

 

Her chest tightened at the thought. She couldn’t lose him now. She needed him to be okay! _She needed_ _him_! She redirected her search and looked more closely at those faces the water had claimed. Living under the surface had its uses. Everything about her body had been designed for survival beneath the waves. Her eyesight was far superior to that of the humans floating around her. They would probably only see murky shadows and shapes, while she saw every detail in every face. It made her search that much quicker.

 

Desperation was beginning to build as she continued her search, going deeper and deeper, trying to find the one face that meant everything to her. She had found herself level with the ship in her search when the thought occurred to her that maybe not everyone had made it off the ship before it made its descent. This spurred her into action, moving swiftly to see if she could find any signs of someone being trapped within.

 

She didn’t have to look far as she noticed a booted foot caught in a rope, the rest of the body disappearing from her view. Moving around the obstructing wood, she felt the pressure in her chest release. She had found him. He was here. But judging by how far down the ship had sunk already, he probably didn’t have much more time. He couldn’t survive down here. He needed air. She rushed forward to free his foot, only for her webbed fingers to keep slipping around the knots uselessly.

 

Frustration mounting, she looked around for anything that might help her. Being underwater, unfortunately, meant everything that wasn’t strapped down had already floated away. There was nothing.

 

She gripped her hair in aggravation. He would _not_ die here! It would _not_ end like this! They had their whole lives ahead of them! _NO._ This was unacceptable.

 

Taking one final look around, a glint of metal caught her eye. There, nestled into his belt, was a knife. He must have forgotten it was there in all the panic and chaos. Perfect. She reached forward and snatched the knife from its holster and immediately began cutting away at the ropes keeping him bound. The metal hilt was still difficult for her to hang on to, but she managed as best she could. Her only focus being to cut through as quickly as possible, and not cutting him with her frenzied movements.

 

Finally, the last thread was cut, and his leg fell free. Gripping him beneath his arms, she slammed her tail against the water, hurtling toward the surface, not wanting to waste any more time. Her heart lodged in her throat as the thought of being too late flittered through her mind. She forcefully squashed the thought as quickly as it had come. No. Being too late was completely unacceptable. As long as there hadn’t been much time since passing, there would still be magics she could work that would bring him back.

 

She wasn’t supposed to know such things. That kind of knowledge had been what had gotten her mother killed, after all, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She had felt a physical pull from those forbidden texts, and now she was more than grateful for such knowledge. It kept her from giving in to the fear she felt rising.

 

She used her powerful tail to surge towards the surface. Once he felt the air against his face, he started to cough up sea water but still didn’t wake.

 

Of course, she wasn’t lucky enough to finally be able to determine his eye color when she was this close.

 

The sea and wind seemed to have calmed, giving way to pouring sheets of rain. Droplets of water still beat out crashing waves. She’d take what she could get at this point. She began to drag him in the direction of the small inlet she knew wasn’t far from their current position. It was too shallow for the large ship but was a perfect place to seek refuge from the turbulent sea. There were buildings right up next to the water because of the safety the surrounding rocks provided.

 

It didn’t take long before she was nearing one such building. As much as it killed her, she knew she wouldn’t be much use to him in the water. He needed to be treated on dry land. This was the limit of what she could do for him. It was aggravating to think she was basically useless to him. Clearly, he couldn’t take care of himself. He needed her. She needed to be able to look after him. Be with him. Care for him. Love him.

 

Shaking her head, she cleared her mind of such wishful fantasies. She was a mermaid. He was human. There was nothing to be done to change those circumstances to allow her to be with him forever.

 

She cautiously approached the steps of a building she knew was frequented by many human visitors. It seemed the safest place to leave her precious cargo, and she hoped someone would find him quickly. She couldn’t get him any further inland, and it didn’t seem like he would be waking on his own anytime soon in order to call for help. She knew the risks if anyone found her there, but this was for her true love. She couldn’t let him die here.

 

She heaved him out of the water as best she could, pushing him farther away from the surf so he wouldn’t be in any danger of rolling back in. She squared her shoulders and mustered her courage. He needed her to be strong right now when he couldn’t be. She drew in a deep breath, allowing the uncomfortably dry air to rush into her lungs, and screeched. Her body wasn’t designed for human speech so the best she could do was make enough noise for someone to come and investigate.

 

She only continued the sound for a short time, pausing to see if anyone had heard before she screeched again. She continued on for what felt like forever as she watched his chest shallowly rise and fall, his eyes remaining closed.

 

As her throat began to feel raw from the combined screeching and air flowing down her throat, she finally heard something. There was a distinct _pat pat pat_ that sounded like it was coming closer. Her time was up. Someone was coming. She quickly hoisted her upper body out of the water, gaining enough distance she was able to reach him and planted a soft kiss on his cheek before slipping back beneath the waves, darting away before she could be seen. She only went so far as to be able to find shelter behind the nearest outcropping of rock that protected the inlet. She needed to be absolutely sure he would be safe after all.

 

As she watched, a woman came dashing into view. She had thick, dark curls that framed her heart shaped face. Her pale skin almost glowed in the dim light provided by the few torches that were still lit. She couldn’t tell what her eye color was, _of course_ , but if she had to guess, they would be lighter in color. The soft _pat pat pat_ she had heard had been made by the woman’s slippered feet on the marble floor.

 

The woman hadn’t noticed him at first, but it was clear when she finally spotted him. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth in surprise as she stared at him. She seemed to shake herself before she fell to her knees, rolling him onto his back, obviously checking for signs of life. The woman was strangely expressive, she thought. She had never read anyone quite as easily as she did this dark-haired woman. She could tell the exact moment she realized he was still alive, the relief evident on her face.

 

The mermaid gripped the rock until her knuckles turned white. Of course, she wanted help for him, but did the woman really need to touch him so much? Shouldn’t she go get someone else to help move him?

 

Just her luck he seemed to open his eyes at that moment, judging by the smile that suddenly lit up the woman’s face. She was too far away to hear the conversation, unfortunately. It didn’t last long anyway. He tried to pull himself up, and the woman reached forward to help him. Once upright, the woman pulled his arm over her slender shoulders so he could lean on her as they began a slow shuffle back into the building.

 

He was safe now, that was all that mattered. It didn’t matter that the woman had touched him and held him and supported him. That didn’t matter. She had been the one to save him. She had pulled him from what would have been his watery grave. _She had done it_. Not the other woman. The other woman didn’t matter. She was a means to an end. That’s all.

 

Her brain and body began to feel sluggish as the adrenaline seeped out of her muscles. She was far more tired than she had expected to be. She left the inlet, heading back towards home. She needed a good sleep in order to come up with a good story as to why she had been gone for so long. If anybody had noticed anyway, hopefully everyone had slept peacefully last night.

 

She knew she would need her wits about her if she was to come up with a plan in order to keep him safe. He couldn’t be trusted with his own well-being. She needed a way to ensure she could be there to protect him, herself. What she needed, was magic.

* * *

 

 

Unfortunately, the only way she could think of even getting near him was to ask a sea witch for help. Sea witches were generally ignored by her kind. They had a different kind of magic that made other sea dwellers distinctly uncomfortable. There was just something _wrong_ about a witch that preferred to live underwater permanently. They weren’t made to live there. Sea witches were few and far between. Thankfully, she had an insatiable curiosity and had discovered where to find one such sea witch. She hadn’t told another living being out of fear they would drive her away before she had a chance to speak with her. She couldn’t show up empty handed, after all, asking for a favor. No, that wouldn’t do at all. Though, try as she might, she still couldn’t come up with anything that would entice the witch to help her.

 

There was also the matter of disappearing long enough to approach the witch. Ceto only knew how she would manage that. It was one thing to slip to the surface under the pretense of gathering from the lagoons, but if she went the other direction, towards the caves, she knew she would be caught. She hadn't been allowed near the surface even for several moon cycles. Her father had instructed her sisters to keep an annoyingly close eye on her after a mishap involving treasure, a sunken ship, and several very angry sharks. What she would need was a diversion. Something to draw everyone’s attention long enough for her to slip away unnoticed. The question was, what? What could possibly garner enough attention? She didn’t _want_ to hurt anybody, but she needed to cause a panic. Something big enough to send everyone into a panic. Others tended to be less observant when there was a _panic_.

 

Maybe...no, that wouldn’t work. Why did this have to be so difficult? It wouldn’t even be an issue if people would just leave her alone. But, of course, _no_ , they needed to know exactly where she was at all times. It was really only the one incident. There was no need to continue to draw this babysitter business out.

 

She hadn’t given the others any indication of her inner most thoughts and feelings. Having such strong want for a human would not be judged kindly. There would be disbelief. None of the others from her village seemed to have any desire for or inclination towards the land and its inhabitants. No, she was smart enough to realize she would be locked away for sure if they knew what she was planning. Locked up, and key disposed of. _No, thank you_.

 

What she would need was a diversion… Something to draw everyone’s attention so she could slip away unnoticed. It didn’t matter if the distraction lasted very long, as she wasn’t planning on coming back. No, she just needed it to last long enough that all other concerns would be forgotten.

 

Of course, it was mating season for the grindylow… If they were disturbed now they would be extremely upset and certainly do some damage. She looked around for any ideas for something that could possibly cause enough disruption as to send them into a tizzy. She headed through the village, head turning left and right, searching for anything to spark an idea.

 

There! That would be perfect. Hanging beside the door of one of the village herders, a conch horn. It was pitched so it wouldn’t be heard by the merfolk, but it would send out a horrible sound to scare other creatures away from where they kept their more docile creatures for food. The grindylow would not be happy to be blasted at close range with that.

 

She moved as casually as she could towards the conch horn, trying to be discreet in observing her surroundings to see if anybody was paying her any attention. When all attention seemed to be directed somewhere else, she snatched the horn and stuffed it into the satchel she wore across her body.

 

She waited a few moments, feeling her heart pound in her chest, to see if anybody would stop her. When no one did, she let a small smile stretch across her lips. It wouldn’t do to look too smug. Someone would catch on that she was up to something. Trying to keep her pace casual, she headed towards the seaweed fields. She had some grindylow to interrupt.

* * *

 

 

Upon reaching the edge of the village, she again glanced around to make sure no one was observing her. Seeing that everyone was too busy with their current tasks, she slipped over the lip of rock that separated the edge of her village and the beginning of the weeds. Casting one last glance over her shoulder, she pulled the horn from her bag and brought it to her lips, blowing as hard as she could. The effect was almost immediate. Hordes of grindylow shot up from the weeds, spiky little fingers clamped tightly to the sides of their round heads, most with their eyes squeezed shut. Not daring to stay too long, she whipped the shell back into her bag and fled before they had time to recover enough to notice her before them.

 

It didn’t take long before the grindylow were shaking the pain from their heads and searching for the source. When that failed, they started swarming towards the village. They knew exactly what made that sound. The dark mass of grindylow shot in between the buildings on the outskirts, ripping around, trying to identify whoever it was that had disturbed them. She could hear the shouts and screams of her people mingled amongst the gibberish that was the angry cloud of grindylow.

 

The smile slipped into a smirk as she watched the chaos unfold. She rather enjoyed the sounds her trick had created. Hearing the confusion and destruction was almost a thing of beauty in her opinion. But time was of the essence, and she had a mission to complete before anyone realized she was gone. Shaking herself off, she turned and propelled herself towards the caves. She had a witch to visit.

* * *

 

 

Thankfully, she already knew exactly which cave the witch was living in, otherwise, it would have taken far too long to pinpoint her exact location. Making sure she wasn’t being followed, she dashed inside before she could change her mind. Sea witches were known to be unpredictable. They were as likely to invite you to stay for a meal as they were to curse you into dust. It completely depended on their mood for the day. She supposed it was only to be expected. She suspected they would have to be at least a little unstable to want to give up their world of light and color in order to live secluded amongst the waves. As she understood it, it took some rather powerful magic as well to pull off a transformation strong enough to allow an air breather to dwell underwater. If the witch could pull off that kind of magic, surely she could reverse the process and allow her to stand on dry land? Never hurt to ask. Well, it could. Completely depended on if the witch was feeling generous today.

 

“Hello, is anyone here?” She didn’t want to be zapped just because the witch hadn’t heard her coming. She continued on, deeper into the cave, eyes straining as the light grew dimmer and dimmer the farther in she went. She listened for any sound that could indicate the witch was even there, but so far the only sound she could hear was that of her body moving through the water.

 

A bright light suddenly filled the cave. She flinched away, squeezing her eyes shut as her vision filled with spots. Along with the light came a harsh, wheezing cackle. The sounds made her heart pound and goose bumps to spread across her body. She couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran through her. It grated. She had a feeling she and this witch weren’t going to get along very well. She would need to speak carefully.

 

“So, you’re the little mermaid who wants legs.”

 

She jerked her head up, trying to force her eyes to focus on the witch. She had never told anyone. Ever. _How did the witch know?!_

 

“Oh, don’t worry yourself, love. Even if I were so inclined to idle gossip, who would listen to the crazy sea witch living alone in the caves?” She had a point there. Nobody would give the woman the time of day, let alone believe that one of their chief’s daughters wanted something as ridiculous as _legs_.

 

She blinked a few more times in quick succession, and the last remaining spots disappeared from her vision. She finally got her first good look at the sea witch. She looked like any other land dweller, really. She wouldn’t have been able to pick her out in a crowd. Dirty blonde hair flowed around her face. Her blue eyes were wide and gave her an innocent look that strangely made her uncomfortable; like she was looking right through her and knew all her inner thoughts and feelings. Which, she probably did if she already knew about her wish for legs. She was a tiny thing. Much smaller than she would have imagined such a powerful witch. The awful cackle she had heard didn’t seem to fit what her eyes were showing her. The laugh had been disturbing, the witch seemed almost...adorable. In a creepy, all knowing, ethereal sort of way. She wondered if the little sea witch had any fae blood in her. It would certainly explain the conflicting impressions she was having.

 

The only sign that suggested the witch lived beneath the sea was the pair of thin gills on either side of her neck and the webbing between her fingers and toes. Sweet Neptune, _toes._ Attached to two feet, which sprouted from two legs. She wondered if part of the glassy sheen to the witch’s eyes was a film to protect them from the salt water or if she always looked distracted.

 

The witch tilted her head, making her look even more like a child. “It’s incredibly rude to stare, you know. It’s also considered bad manners to not answer a question when it is directed to you.”

 

She shook herself from her perusal. “Apologies, madam. You took me by surprise.”

 

The witch hummed absently as if she didn’t quite believe her, which was probably because it wasn’t completely true, but not completely false either. She had been surprised by the witch’s sudden appearance, but she had been even more surprised upon actually seeing the witch.

 

“And yes, I am the mermaid that wishes for legs.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

She fidgeted, not really sure what else to say. If the witch knew why she was here, why wasn’t she saying anything?

 

“It’s rather bad form coming to a stranger and expecting them to do you a service without anything to offer in exchange.”

 

Ah. There it was. She knew it didn’t reflect well on her, but she had had absolutely no success trying to think of something that would be an acceptable trade. With so many strikes against her character already, she thought perhaps it was best to be as forthcoming with the witch as she could be.

 

“I couldn’t think of anything that would be suitable in exchange for your help with my wish. I thought perhaps it would be better to simply ask you what you would want instead of trying to guess. I’d hate to be presumptuous and offer something you felt wasn’t fair payment. I didn’t mean to offend.”

 

“Oh, well that was rather thoughtful of you then, I suppose.” The witch continued to stare back at her. She was pretty sure the witch hadn’t so much as blinked once the entire time the cave had been lit.

 

Another silence fell between the two. She was incredibly uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure what else the witch was waiting for so she blurted the first question that popped into her head.

 

“Why did you decide to live in the sea?”

 

A small smile drew up the corner of the witch’s mouth. “It’s rather difficult to live where everyone thinks you’re strange, where nobody really believes much of what you have to say.”

 

That sounded all too familiar. She knew she didn’t belong here, didn’t fit properly. Maybe there was more to this witch than she had originally thought.

 

“Oh?” She wanted to hear more.

 

“Yes, apparently people find it rather tiresome and off putting when you know things about them you shouldn’t.”

 

“So, you’re a seer then?” How lucky could she be?! A witch _and_ she was a seer? She could tell her how exactly to ingratiate herself to _him._

 

“Not in the traditional sense you’re thinking of. I don’t see the future, I just see things as they are now. I see what’s underneath the surface, what others try to hide not only from each other but from themselves.”

 

_Blink already!_

 

“Oh, I see.” Not so lucky after all. Still, it meant the witch knew exactly what she needed, and was simply refusing to move the conversation along. The witch was purposely playing with her, of that she was almost certain.

 

The witch finally broke her stare and headed deeper into the cave. The bright light, which she realized now was just a floating ball, moved with her. Not wanting to be left behind, she followed.

 

They didn’t travel long before the cave tunnel opened into a cavern. All kinds of bottles covered the majority of the flat surfaces. She couldn’t identify most of them. She watched as the witch propelled herself around the cave using her tiny webbed feet and occasionally her hands. The witch continued in silence as she collected a number of the bottles and jars and placed them in the designated area that was clearly her work space. The witch pulled out a thin stick and started waving it around, mumbling to herself. She watched in awe as the water on her work space swirled until it pulled back, forming a small air bubble with only her hands and workspace encased inside it.

 

 _A wand_ . She had never actually seen one before. It was rather silly that she was so surprised to see it, considering she was talking to a _witch_. Land or sea, the woman would still need a way to harness her magic.

 

She watched in silent fascination as the witch poured out ingredients from several bottles into a stone bowl.

 

“Why don’t you do that bubble trick for your entire cave? Then you could live here without needing the changes to your body.” She was just trying to fill the silence. She didn’t like it. Here in the cave, you couldn’t even hear the currents flowing. There was no background noise at all that she could detect.

 

“Too much energy, this is easier,” was the only reply she got. The witch kept her focus completely on the task before her. She decided it would be best to remain quiet. She didn’t want to risk ruining her only shot of living on land by talking the witch’s ear off and distracting her.

 

The witch finally looked up after crushing a few of the bigger ingredients with a pestle and held out her hand expectantly. She looked back with a blank expression. She had absolutely no idea what the witch expected from her. The witch sighed. She swore the witch would have rolled her eyes as well if they weren’t so intent on staring at her.

 

“I need some of your blood to make this work, otherwise it’s just a very expensive paste.” She had never really seen this type of magic before but she supposed it made sense it would need to be personalized.

 

She laid her hand on top of the witch’s and was surprised by the strength of the pull the witch used to bring her hand over the top of the bowl. The witch produced a small jagged dagger, she hadn’t noticed where from and proceeded to cut a line diagonally across her entire palm. The cut stung, and she felt like the witch had cut deeper than absolutely necessary. The witch flipped their hands so hers was on the bottom now, palm down, and watched as the blood dripped into the bowl, hissing when it made contact with the rest of the ingredients.

 

With a final shake, the witch released her hand. Drawing it back, she saw the cut was already beginning to heal itself. She drew her finger across the scar left behind. The witch’s magic really was fascinating. She wondered if there would be any way for her to use magic like that.

 

“The answer is yes.”

 

She jerked in surprise, not expecting the witch to talk anytime soon and feeling lost in her own thoughts.

 

“With the changes to your body, your magic will also change. My magic still works the same because I didn’t change as much about my physical makeup as you will be. This won’t happen right away, though. You’ll need to bind yourself to a human. This will cause the transformation to be permanent, and the moment of bonding is when your magic will change. You don’t have a human soul, and that will keep the transformation from being permanent unless you can bind yourself to a human. And no, you cannot bind with me. That would defeat the purpose, as you would then have to stay down here with me. No, you need to bond with a human whom you wish to stay with. You’ll have to move quickly as this magic won’t hold for more than a week. After the time limit, you will revert back to this form.”

 

She blinked. That was certainly more information than she was expecting. She thought the witch would just throw some magic around and _poof_ , a pair of legs and breathing air. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to respond to that so she just nodded her head as she continued to trace the line across her palm.

 

A sudden thought struck her, “You still haven’t told me what you want in exchange for all this.” She gestured to the bowl that was starting to spark.

 

The witch paused her wand waving to look her in the eye. “Oh, haven’t I? Hmm, I must have forgotten to say the words aloud. Silly me. It happens sometimes when you already know what a person’s answer is going to be anyway.”

 

She waited, again, for the witch to continue, her eyebrows slowly rising. The witch certainly liked to make people uncomfortable and state the obvious. She wondered if there was more to this tactic than to just make people uncomfortable. Probably.

 

She knew she would never win a silent stand off with this witch, so she ventured, “And what is it exactly that you want from me?”

 

“Your tongue.”

 

“ _Excuse me?_ I thought you just said, my tongue.” There’s no way she heard that right.

 

“Your hearing is perfectly fine, and yes, I did say your tongue. I am, after all, giving you two appendages. Surely the cost of only one is fair. If anything I’m giving you a deal. It’s not particularly like you actually need the thing anyway. But to be more specific, I don’t physically want your tongue. I want your voice. You will become mute. That keeps you from fabricating any lies in order to reach your goals.”

 

She hadn’t really thought about it before, but now that the witch had pointed it out, she most certainly would have said absolutely anything for him to want her. She was scarily good at knowing exactly what it was people wanted to hear. It wasn’t a difficult decision really, though. Her voice for a chance to finally be with him? That was an obvious choice.

 

“Yes, I suppose it seems like a fair trade.” She conceded.

 

“Of course it does.” What was that supposed to mean?

 

She watched as the witch finally put her hand down and scooped up the paste in the bowl that was still sparking slightly. The witch extended her hand once more. “I need you to lean forward into the air bubble.”

 

Not wanting to delay any longer now that she was finally this close, she did as the witch instructed. The witch wasted no time and began rubbing the paste into her throat. It was smeared from just beneath her chin, right down to her clavicle. She swallowed as the witch continued to rub it in. She could feel the sparks against her skin. The paste itself was uncomfortably warm, almost to the point of burning.

 

“There, all done. Now just don’t move or the water will wash it away and you’d be stuck halfway.” The witch giggled a little at the imagery. She didn’t think it was particularly funny herself, but she wasn’t some barmy sea witch either.

 

“Now what?” Her voice came out raw and scratchy.

 

“Oh good, it’s already working. Just stay there and let magic take care of the rest.” The witch began to hum quietly as the time continued to crawl by.

 

There was a sudden shooting pain that ran the entire length of her tail. “Oh, did I forget to mention it could be rather painful? Silly me.” If she wasn’t hurting so much she would have throttled the witch. _Bloody loon._ She tried to gasp as the pain intensified only to choke on the water that rushed in. At least it was working. Wait, her lungs had already changed to accommodate air? She was at the bottom of the bloody ocean! She was going to drown!

 

The witch continued to hum, completely unfazed by her sudden obvious panic.

 

“I suppose you had better hurry up, it’s almost complete and you have a ways to swim. Better take advantage of those fins while you can, toes aren’t much good for swimming quickly.” This must have been the plan all along, gain what she wanted from her and then let her drown. The crazy, murderous witch!

 

She spun around, trying to locate the exit through her pain induced haze, her only thoughts on reaching the surface in time. As she sped towards the opening she heard the witch shout out from behind her, “Give my regards to those idiots up there. Pandora says hello!” Her laughter died off as she raced away from the witch’s lair. She had always been quick, and she was never more grateful for that than she was in that instant.

 

She shot out of the cave and immediately started her ascent, her movements becoming more and more desperate the closer she got. She noticed she was slowing down, only to realize she was now kicking two legs instead of one tail. So close. She was so close. There were black spots beginning to fill her vision. Just before she thought she was going to pass out, she felt her face break free of the water. She took in great gasps of air, sucking it down greedily.

 

After regaining her composure from her near death experience, she took in her surroundings. She wasn’t as far from land as she had thought. Apparently, the witch’s cave was part of the rocks that formed the inlet where she had left him not so long ago. She let a satisfied smile stretch her mouth. She had actually done it! She was going to be with him. _Finally._

 

She tried propelling herself forward only to realize the same movements were a lot more difficult with legs, and the results were abysmal. No wonder humans generally didn’t do well in the water.

 

She continued on with her awkward flailing, determined to reach land. Slowly, she was making progress. It was rather maddening, this snail pace. After what seemed like forever, she finally felt the sand beneath her feet. It felt different, now that she wore skin instead of scales. Taking another step, she realized why it felt different. It was _excruciating_. Every step she took was almost unbearable. It felt like she was walking across razor sharp knives, not warm sand! That loony witch had a perverse sense of humor. There hadn’t been any mention of walking being this painful. She doubted it felt this way for everyone else. Just her. Wonderful. For a brief moment, she wondered if this would really be worth all the effort, but she crushed that thought as quickly as it came. This was most definitely worth it. She could endure a little pain if it meant spending the rest of her life with the man she wanted so desperately to be with. She could do this.

 

She continued to push forward, quashing the pain, trying to distract herself with thoughts of him. How she would finally be able to see the color of his eyes as they lit up upon seeing her. Finally feeling his arms wrap around her. Imagining what his voice would sound like whispering sweet nothings to her as they lay next to each other every morning. Yes, definitely worth it.

 

She grabbed what she assumed to be appropriate attire off a line hanging in her way. Humans always covered their bodies. It had always seemed strange to her, but she would just have to get used to their ways if she was to live among them. She made her way towards the building where she had left him, figuring it would be the best place to start her search, not that she could actually make any inquiries.

 

The small village was slowly settling in for the night, and the light slowly faded from the sky as she continued on her way. The closer she got to her destination, the more distinct the voices within became. She decided it would be would be in her best interest to listen for a time before making herself known. She would need information to ingratiate herself to these people.

 

So fixed on her inner musings, she almost missed the flash of gold that passed the still open window. _He was still here_. It had been too long since she had seen him last, not having been able to make any excuses to return to the surface. Her search was over before it had even begun. Yes, listening would most definitely be the best way to know how best to approach him. She snuck around to the side of the hut, not wanting any passersby to catch her eavesdropping. There was even an overturned crate underneath the window for her to sit on. Making herself comfortable, she settled in to wait. The hut must not have been very big because the voices carried easily out to her.

 

“Andromeda, why don’t you leave that for tomorrow. It isn’t going anywhere.” His voice. She knew it was his. It filled her with warmth. Now she had a memory to add to the images in her mind.

 

“I’m almost done, Ted. I just need another ten minutes. It really won’t take long, and then tomorrow I am all yours.” Ted. A rather plain name for such a remarkable man. Of course, there had to be something she supposed. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his laughter floating out the window. It was even more wonderful than she could have dreamed. She couldn’t wait for the chance to make him laugh like that.

 

“Sure, darling. Why don’t I just wait here for you then, to make sure it actually only takes ten minutes, and you don’t decide to start another one.” Wait, darling? No, he wasn’t supposed to have a darling. _She_ was supposed to be his darling. She couldn’t help herself. She turned around and peeked over the window ledge. The sight before her made her blood freeze.

 

There he was, as perfect as she remembered, but everything was so horribly wrong. The woman who had found him was still here, and he had his arms wrapped around her.

 

“All right, love. You win. Let’s get to bed.” The woman, _Andromeda_ he had called her, said. She watched in horror as he leaned down and planted a soft kiss to the woman’s lips. No, this couldn’t be happening! It wasn’t possible! He was meant for _her_. She had already gone through so much for him. She continued to watch as he followed behind the woman, swatting at her behind as they disappeared from view.

 

She slumped back against the wall, sliding down until she was once more seated on the crate, staring blankly ahead. Her mind absolutely refused to accept what she had just seen. He was supposed to love _her_. Not that Andromeda woman. That woman didn’t deserve him. After everything, she had done to finally be with him. No. She had worked too hard to reach this point. Given too much to allow this to just happen.

 

Shaking herself, she looked around. She hadn’t been aware of just how much time had passed. It was completely dark now and the village was silent apart from the usual sounds that came with the night.  She rose from her seated position, stretching her sore limbs. She needed to do something. She was here to protect him after all, and that included from himself.

 

Stepping up onto the crate she had been sitting on, she hauled herself up and in through the window. The hut was modest but comfortable. She spotted a loom in one corner with a nearly done image on it. That must have been what that harlot was working on. Not even stopping to consider her actions, she grabbed the pair of shears lying beside it and cut straight through the middle. Stealing men that belong to others. Desperate much?

 

Keeping the shears in hand, she headed down the hallway she had seen them disappear down. She was so caught up in her own thoughts, she no longer noticed the pain lancing up her legs with each step. There was only one door at the end where they could have gone. She couldn’t hear anything coming from beyond the closed door so she assumed they were asleep. As quietly as she could, she entered the room.

 

It was as modest as the rest of the place. The room was dominated by the bed with a dresser squeezed in. Her stomach rolled seeing that wench all snug in his arms. That should have been _her._ She was supposed to spend the rest of her days with him. It was her place to provide comfort. No one else’s! On the lightest steps she could muster, she approached. They were both sleeping peacefully, neither aware of the danger that was so near. Her chest squeezed painfully at the sight. Her thoughts were all starting to run together in a fog. She was consumed by the need to remove the sleeping woman. Once she was gone, they could be happy together. She would comfort him. She didn’t realize how long she had stood there, arm raised, poised to deal the deathblow, only to realize she was no longer staring into a sleeping face. She was transfixed by the most beautiful pair of blue eyes she had ever seen. She had been right, they were the same color as the sky on a perfectly clear day. Only instead of the love she had dreamed of seeing in those eyes, she saw fear. Fear that she would follow through and end the tart who had taken everything from her.

 

Her arm shook as she tried to make up her mind. If she followed through he would know exactly who had do it, and would never seek comfort from her. On the other hand, _Andromeda_ had stolen the life meant for her! She couldn’t let that go unpunished! But no, she would live forever alone, with him hating her, if she killed the still sleeping woman. She could actually feel her thoughts shattering, blowing in different directions as she tried to think of what to do.

 

Finally making her decision, she threw the shears down, taking one last glance at his face, turned, and fled. She ran down the hall and burst out the front door, taking in the freezing air in huge gulping breaths. She couldn’t stay here. He had seen her face and would recognize her. No. She needed to go. The problem being, she still needed to bond in order to stay human.

 

Not giving any thought as to direction, she ran. Tears began filling her eyes, blurring her vision. She didn’t see the man until she had made contact. Before she could hit the ground as she bounced back, she felt a strong hand grab her elbow.

 

“Forgive me, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She hadn’t heard his accent before. He didn’t dress the same as everyone else she had seen either. The man was obviously not from around here. She went to brush off his apology only to remember she couldn’t actually speak. Instead she offered him an apologetic smile and a shrug.

 

The man opened his mouth to say something else, only to stop, his eyes narrowed slightly. The silence was heavy as he continued to watch her. Finally he spoke, “Tell me, what was it like, dealing with a sea witch?”

 

He knew. How did he know?! She couldn’t even tell people if she wanted to, so how had this man figured it out without even having a proper conversation? She started to struggle, needing to free herself, but his grip was iron and she was exhausted from the day she had had.

 

“Don’t hurt yourself, my dear. I mean you no harm. I merely wish to have a conversation. That’s all. I believe we could be mutually beneficial to one another.” She stopped her struggle and really looked at him. He was a handsome man, though not in the same way her darling Ted was. This man was dark where Ted was light. She could feel the power rolling off him in waves. Knowing she really didn’t have much else to lose, she nodded.

 

His lips quirked in what she supposed must pass for a smile for this man. His hand released its grip on her arm. She was certain it would bruise. The man straightened his jacket, smoothing any wrinkles that may have appeared.

 

Looking up at her, he stuck his hand out. “Let’s start again shall we? My name is Tom Riddle.” She accepted the handshake, but pointed to her throat, indicating she couldn’t reciprocate. “Ah, I see, well we can take care of that problem later. Really, all we need is to sever the connection between yourself and the witch. In the meantime, why don’t you simply write down your name for me.” He produced a quill and parchment from some inner pocket, holding them out towards her.

 

She accepted them and bent over so she could use her knee to steady herself. She handed the parchment back with one word scrawled across in spiky, shaky handwriting:

  
_Bellatrix_.


End file.
